For Once I'd Like To Hear It All
by Camel in the Arctic
Summary: Prince Eldarion wants to know all about the wizards, but there is no one who can tell him the whole story! There must be someone!
1. Prologue

Eldarion, prince of Gondor was meant to be asleep. He wasn't – he was reading. Actually he was sat in his closet reading with a dying candle on the floor and a doubtful hope that the next time his mother or father came in they would mistake the pile of pillows under the bedcovers as their son.

He was at the troublesome age of eleven where everything else gave way for an unquenchable thirst for finding out things. Before his eleventh birthday he was quite content to go off with his friends and play 'Sauron and Elendil' and other favourites or terrorize his younger sisters with icky things he found in the gardens; now he spent most of his time either reading books silently or asking questions loudly. His mother was worried like normal but his father seemed to find it amusing and always had a story or two to tell.

Already Eldarion had found out as much as he could about the War of the Ring, the Elves and Melkor and Sauron and Numenor, but whenever he looked for anything about the wizards he was always left feeling disappointed because none of the stories were finished – or started – properly. He blamed his father, his father the King of Gondor and Arnor had, it seemed to Eldarion, a strange sense of humour. He would tell fantastic stories about Mithrandir, Gandalf the Grey and then when he was asked more he would just shrug and laugh and say even he doesn't know the whole story. Not even his mother did and she was _really_ old.

There was a creak from his bedroom door and the little prince quickly snuffed out his candle so the entire closet went dark. There was a silence that meant it was neither his mother nor his nanny looking in on him. His mother bustled and his nanny plodded and each made enough noise to wake him up as it was. His father never made any noise; he was a ranger and if he made noise he's be dead, Legolas had once told him – though the elf might have been trying to scare him.

Not even Uncle Legolas knew enough about the wizards and he was even older than mother – and he had gone on lots of adventures with Gandalf.

The door opened suddenly and Eldarion squeaked.

"There you are!" whispered his father and picked him up. "What are you doing in the closet?"

"I was reading, father."

Aragorn laughed. "Again? Your mother will feed you to a balrog is she finds out, you know?"

"There _aren't_ any balrogs left, father!"

Aragorn sat down on the bed, threw all the pillows out from under the covers and laid his son down again. "Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes! Gandalf killed the last one!"

"Oh yes. I forgot."

"You're making fun of me father!"

"I know."

Eldarion 'humphed' and put his head down. "Who was Gandalf, father?"

"He was a wizard, Eldarion – I've told you that haven't I?"

"Yes – but I want to know _everything_ about him, and the rest of the wizards!"

"Everything?"

"Yes!"

Aragorn stood up and puffed out his cheeks. "That's a lot to find out, Eldarion – and I'm not sure there is anyone left who knows all of it."

"But I want to _know_, father!" Eldarion protested. "Someone _must_ know!"


	2. Chapter 1

Damn and blast the curiosity of the young! It causes nothing but trouble for the old! If it wasn't for that pesky prince I would still be living in peace in my gardens looking after the birds and the beasts and I wouldn't have to be sat here writing all of this for you –

– I would just like to say before we begin that this was in no way my idea – if it hadn't been for that boy telling his dear mother I would never have given this a thought. But he did and if there is one thing I can't refuse it's that elf Arwen and the way she pouts when she wants something.

I feel terribly sympathetic for the king of Gondor at this point. He lost before he even began.

It was two months ago when I was summoned to Osgiliath by Aragorn. He said he 'needed my advice' which I soon found out was nothing but a lie and a trick. I wouldn't have even answered that Dunedain's summons if it wasn't for Gandalf, damn him. Before he left for the West he says to me: "Radagast, it is up to you to look after Middle-Earth now I'm gone. Look after the line of Men especially – the world is theirs now, make sure they don't ruin it."

I said to him I would keep both my eyes open for any problems and he left with a smile which I never really understood.

I do now you old rascal! If you ever get your hands on a copy of this then I just want you to know I hold you fully responsible for my hardships.

So I went to Osgiliath like the king asked and when I got there he invited me into his pavilion (none of the houses were inhabitable yet) and he sat me down and gave me some elven wine and he says to me: "I need your help."

I said to him that I'd be glad to help him – I guess that's what I should be doing now Saruman and Gandalf have departed (and I doubt I'll get any help from the other two).

He then disappears and leaves me in that tent twiddling my thumbs for about ten minutes. When he comes back he has got his son, his blasted son, Eldarion. I hadn't seen that boy for years – since his birth in fact when I was asked to be present. Children have never been my expertise, you see? But there he was and when he saw me his eyes lit up and a rather startling expression of hunger passed over his young face. Aragorn was laughing when he said to me, "Radagast, my friend, this is what I need your help with." And then he left – good for nothing ranger! It was just me and the boy – I was sat feeling awkward and confused and he was sat staring at me.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you, Eldarion," I say, trying to end the uncomfortable silence between us but all he does it squeal with delight and ask: "You're a wizard, aren't you?"

I was taken aback by this question – maybe it was my ego that had gotten the better of me but I thought _everyone_ knew that I was a wizard. OK, just because Gandalf killed the balrog and helped the Ringbearer and Saruman went bad doesn't mean I should be forgotten, I've done my share of wizardly deeds over the years and it'd be nice to get a little recognition now and then.

So I say to him: "Yes, I'm Radagast the Brown."

He moved closer and I tried to edge away because the way he was looking at me was making me feel discomfited and he said: "Tell me about the wizards."

I hesitated and told him that it was a long story but he interrupts and says that he wanted to hear it all no matter how long it was. I told him to ask his father and he tells me he already did and that Aragorn didn't know it all. I told him to go to the elves but he tells me he already did and they came back with the same answer as Aragorn did. My list of people for him to ask is already growing slim and I splutter for a moment or two and, thankfully I am saved by Arwen who comes into the tent at that very moment.

She's always graceful that Arwen and she offered me another glass of wine and then she says to her son: "Why are you bothering Radagast, Eldarion?"

And he says: "I want to know about the wizards!"

She says: "Ask you father and leave Radagast alone."

He says he has and his father told him to ask me so off Arwen goes and a moment or two later she comes back with Aragorn and that cheeky elf Legolas.

Those two caused me so much trouble when they were younger – always in my orchards and stealing my honey.

I doubted that anything had changed – even if one was a king and the other a noble prince but at that moment they both looked very bashful and I'm sure Arwen had 'had words'. It turned out that it was _Legolas_ who had suggested to Aragorn that I should be the one to tell Eldarion about us Istari and he had liked the idea so much that he had sent me a letter straight away with some fantasy about needing my advice.

Arwen apologised to me about the inconvenience and says that while I am in Gondor I should come to Minas Tirith so I could see her daughters.

How little I knew. That woman is more cunning than her husband and his friend put together.

I spent about two days in a stuffy, marble room in that palace until Eldarion came to me accompanied by his mother and he apologised for being so rude and then he left again and Arwen and I were left alone. She gave me a glass of wine and sat down next to me and she said: "He is at a funny age; he just wants to know _everything_."

I say that it's normal and everybody was like it at some point in their life. She laughed and then looks at me with her beautiful eyes and said quite innocently: "To tell you the truth, Radagast, it _would_ be an interesting story."

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you're the only on still left on Middle-Earth who knows it _all_," she said and looked at me. I squirmed and tried to change the subject but she pouted with those lips of hers and I felt my resolve fading shamefully quickly. Then she leant close to me and said: "It wouldn't take you long, if you wrote it all down – I'd be ever-so-grateful if you did, and it would make Eldarion so happy."

I tried to get away but she put a hand on my arm and I froze. I told her I was very busy and didn't have the time to write a storybook for her and her son but she just sat there looking at me with those eyes and those lips and then, just to make her stop, I said: "Fine! I'll do it!"

Now here I am. Writing this accursed account of a life too long – just because I couldn't resist the whims of a lady. I doubt I shall ever see the sun again, there is just too much for me to write down and most of it I am sure I have forgotten, but I promised that wicked queen that I would try and get it all done and she was very grateful. I was allowed to go back to Rhosgobel and write in peace but I kept getting interrupted by the blasted prince and his blasted father who seemed to find it incredibly funny that I had been won over by Arwen in the end. In the end I had to forbid them to come to my door and make it clear that if they did my dogs would have their hides.

So here it goes: the story of the five wizards of Middle-Earth, from the start of it all to the end. I hope you enjoy it.


	3. Chapter 2

My story begins a long time before I ever came to Middle-Earth; I, as you must already know, am a Maia and I dwelt in the Blessed Realms as a servant to mighty Yavanna, the mother of all living things. I so wish I could look upon her again, because in her face were all things I found beautiful – but my chance of that has gone. We shall speak of that later, however.

For now all I will tell you is that I was known by the name of Aiwendal – the 'bird tamer' – and living in the immortal worlds of the Valar was not something to be sniffed at. There was peace there like no other place in the whole of Arda and if I had the chance I would go back to that green country again…

I'm straying from my story again, aren't I? I do that when I reminisce, you know?

Anyway, the peace of Valinor was complete – or so most of us thought, but the Aratar were troubled about the happenings in Middle-Earth. Their son Sauron had been causing all kinds of problems (as you well know) and the land and its people were giving over to despair. They felt they needed to do something but before they could begin to take action Men and what elves were left did it for them and they overthrew Sauron and he was thought to be destroyed, wasn't he? The Valar were not so blind, but they were curious and they did not send the three Maiar over the waters to Middle-Earth for a time (the three being Curumo, Morinehtar and Olorin – notice that I was not one of them yet).

And then the Valar found out that Sauron had not been defeated – they probably knew all along actually, and they decided to go ahead with their plans, to send the 'Istari' over the sea to aid the peoples of Middle-Earth to stand against the evil of Sauron. But there were some arguments among the Aratar. They tend to get awfully jealous of one another at times and my lady, Yavanna didn't think it right that she should be ignored in these plans. Truly, Orome the hunter had an Istar, Aule had Sauron who was bad and Curumo who was haughty and arrogant and Manwe and Varda had Olorin, the wisest of all Maiar. This delayed things a bit.

For all their power and might the Valar are just a bunch of children. I just hope they never get their hands on this.

In the end I was commanded to go, which was a surprise to me, because I was never as wise as Olorin, or as brave as Morinehtar or as cunning and skilful as mighty Curumo. But Yavanna insisted so I said farewell to my precious birds and beasts, locked my front gate and I made my way to the mighty sea ports of the Teleri.

When I got there I was surprised to see not three other Maiar, but _four_: Olorin, Curumo, Morinehtar and a being called Rómestámo, who was not known to me, but was a friend of Morinehtar and was to accompany him.

Because of some plan by the Valar we were to be spilt up and sent to Middle-Earth with different forms and different names. I was to go fourth, after Curumo – who was now called Saruman, Morinehtar – now Aratar, Rómestámo – Pallando ever after. The new Gandalf was to come last after me, the newly appointed Radagast – a name which I adored from the moment I heard it and I have not once been called anything different from that moment on.

As we stood on the harbour Gandalf came up to me and winked. He was always an enigma that fellow and he was, undoubtedly, the most powerful of the five of us – even though Saruman had already been appointed the head of the Istari order. I liked him from the moment he winked at me to the moment he left the shores of Middle-Earth some centuries later.

I did _not_ like Saruman. He always regarded me with a superior air that got on my nerves. We were allies in this and he treated me like an enemy. His colour was to be white it had been decided and he made fun of the fact that I was brown and from that moment on he always had some degrading name for me. Pallando was little different; he was sly and aggressive at times and I was never sure what his purpose was. He seemed uncaring to the plight of Middle-Earth and he and Saruman seemed to hit it off straight away. Even Aratar noticed this and seemed to be displeased. But with Aratar you could never be sure. Until the very day he betrayed us all I was convinced Aratar was a true friend.

Gandalf was – well he was Gandalf and that is all that can be said.

I still have a grudge against you, old friend. It's your fault these mortals are in my hands. You could have faltered just once, you know? And then I wouldn't be stuck here alone.

The first boat took Saruman, Aratar and Pallando and Gandalf and I stood on the docks and watched the boat disappear across the seas. The Valar were not present which always struck me as odd – especially as they appeared when the first ship had sailed out of sight. Perhaps they were late? I doubt it.

Manwe talked at some length to Gandalf and it seemed to me that Gandalf always seemed weighed down by something after that talk – though I didn't find out why for a long, long time. I was, at that time, being lectured by Yavanna, who had – bless her – bought me another cloak to take and a pair of fine boots (she was always the mothering kind) and she told me to be careful: "There are many dangers, dear one," she said to me. "Thine part in this voyage will remain hidden from thee until the very end – but do not despair, for thou may think thou have faltered in thine journey, but thou will have only done what is necessity."

I did not understand what she meant by that – and I still don't. Maybe I will never find out.

I was then put in a boat and I waited for Gandalf but he waved at me from the pier and said: "You're going alone, Radagast, my friend. I will meet you on the other side in time, old man." And he laughed and cast me off. No one had ever called me old before and I was slightly offended but as I looked over the side of my boat and into the water I saw that my reflection was not how I remembered it. I _was_ old. And I had a beard of dark grey and my body felt achy and sore. I turned back to the harbour to exclaim my annoyance – for this radical aging had not been explained to me – but it was already out of sight.

"Old man, indeed!" I muttered to myself. "He'll pay for that."

And so Radagast the Brown was under way, his voyage started and the horrors that I would find in Middle-Earth were unknown to me at that time, if they weren't I would have probably turned back and rowed all the way home. But for that time, I just enjoyed the sea and the sky and the sun, which I remember was warm and bright and for just a little while, perfection endured.


End file.
